


A Reaching Around of Arms

by PJVilar



Series: Cockyboys in Love Series [1]
Category: Porn RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Making Out, Multi, Roommates, Threesome, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJVilar/pseuds/PJVilar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A romance based on Cockyboys threeway porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Reaching Around of Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself".

“I hate American football,” Kennedy says for the fourth time. Gabriel knows full well he was lured in here by popcorn, because Gabriel makes the best popcorn ever. He tops it with brewer’s yeast, and Kennedy is crazy for it, probably because Gabriel refuses to tell him why it tastes so good.

He was lured in by the smell of popcorn, which is almost all gone, and the promise of beer, and probably by general Sunday night exhaustion. He’s sprawled across the lower half of the couch’s “L”, a bottle of Smithwicks resting on his stomach. A tiny whorl of his tattoo peeks out from over his waistband. Nothing Gabriel hasn’t seen before.

“So you’ve said, but here you are in the third quarter.”

“Mmmph. Good popcorn.”

“Then stop complaining,” Gabriel says good naturedly, and tosses a piece of popcorn at Kennedy’s head. Kennedy makes a play at catching it in his mouth, tongue darting out. It lands somewhere down his shirt. Gabriel laughs but he turns back to the television and adjusts himself as discretely as possible. Friends, he thinks. Roommates. That’s all.

The Gators are ahead by 10 in the fourth quarter and Kennedy’s feet are now propped up alongside the back of Gabriel’s half of the couch. They’re bare and pale, and if he dropped them down, they’d be in Gabriel’s lap.

“Think Jake wants to hang out?” Kennedy asks idly. He’s got a binder full of papers that he’s organizing in between sips of beer; probably research for his thesis.

“I asked,” Gabriel replies. He stretches out, full and content. “He said he has to study.” That seems pretty diligent just two weeks into the semester, but then Jake seems to have already changed a couple of his classes. Maybe he has to catch up.

“Maybe we should all have dinner one night soon,” Kennedy says. “He’s a nice kid but he still seems a little skittish around the house.”

Skittish isn’t how Gabriel would describe it. Wide-eyed. Anxious. Cute and also jail-bait. But he and Kennedy made a deal, after the last time Tommy walked in on them and subsequently moved out. No more roommate hook-ups. No more drama. They both love this house, and don’t want to go through all that again.

Gabriel glances over at Kennedy. The pyramid tattoo on his shoulder, his beautiful red hair. The delicate features of his face, eyelashes fluttered downward.

The Gators win. The popcorn bowl, Kennedy’s binder and at least two of the couch cushions are in a mess on the floor.

He’s a small kid, that’s Gabriel’s reasoning later for why they didn’t hear Jake walking all the way from his bedroom to the living room across floorboards so creaky they could be in a horror movie. In fact, with his hand down Kennedy’s pants and Kennedy’s teeth now joining his lips against the side of Gabriel’s neck, they don’t hear anything at all until the kid is right in the doorway, asking:

“Hey, sorry to bother you, I just couldn’t find the--”

They never do find out what he’s looking for.

“Oh, shit--” Kennedy groans, and hides his face against Gabriel’s shoulder like that’s somehow going to keep Jake from seeing everything else: the open pants, the shirts off, the sweat and kiss-worn mouths.

Gabriel leaves his hand right where it is around Kennedy’s cock since taking it out would probably draw even more attention to the fact that he has it there in the first place.

“So,” he says brightly and looks up to face it, here they go again, another roommate out the door. Five days. That’s definitely a record.

Jake is dressed for bed, Gabriel guesses, in a tank top and shorts that look like they’re for running. The flower tattoo on his neck is fully visible and he’s wearing thick black glasses. He looks like a little punk hipster Clark Kent. He’s biting his lower lip and staring doggedly at his feet.

Gabriel puts his free hand on the back of Kennedy’s neck and strokes it lightly, observing the hot pink flush spreading across what he can see of Jake’s face. He’s frozen there in the doorway, but he’s decidedly not turning around and walking out. Huh.

Gabriel clears his throat. “So,” he says again, his voice low and calm, so as not to startle either Jake or Kennedy. “Should we stop?” He kisses Kennedy’s forehead and sweeps his hand down the expanse of his smooth back. Kennedy mouths again at his neck, beard softly scratching, and Gabriel figures that’s consent if he’s ever felt it. “Or do you want to have a seat?”

The light flickers from the television and the infomercial shifts from demonstrations of The Chopper to testimonials from supposed cooking show celebrities Gabriel has never seen before. Jake stands there, seeming still but his hands twitch and he chews at the inside of his cheek. Then he walks into the livingroom, still closely observing his own feet.

Kennedy rests his head on Gabriel’s shoulder, watching, as Jake chooses the green recliner chair that is older than time and settles himself into it. When Jake finally looks up, hands resting on the arms of the chair, he looks completely focused, ready. A small, wicked smile blooms on his lips and Gabriel feels a pulse of desire thread across the three of them like a heartbeat.

“Please,” Jake says, soft but not hesitant now. He gestures at the two on the couch and spreads his legs just slightly. The shorts hide nothing -- there’s an erection in there, and Gabriel hopes they’ll get to see it. “Go ahead.”

Kennedy isn’t hesitant either -- he pushes his cock back into Gabriel’s hand, skin sliding back beneath Gabriel’s palm. Gabriel’s hard, too -- harder than he realized, even, if that’s possible.

They really need to get naked.


End file.
